It took Hermione a great deal of inward effort to finally step into the room, close the door behind her, and take the situation as calmly as possible - at least outwardly. If it wasn't utterly impossible, she almost thought she saw a tiny appreciative smile flit across Snape's lips, but it vanished immediately.
Carefully, she sat down on the bed, right on the edge, and studied the calm way Snape changed into soft looking trousers and a shirt. Her heart beat way too fast and all her senses screamed at her to run, but she forced herself to remain. She had nowhere to run anyway.
"Miss Granger," Snape finally addressed her after sitting down on the bed as well, "why do you think I asked for your company tonight?"
Though his voice sounded almost warm, Hermione felt the knot in her stomach tighten. "I don't know."
Snape raised one eyebrow and just looked at her. She swallowed. He wanted her to figure it out herself, that much she understood by now, but she couldn't say it. Despite what happened at the library earlier, she could think of only one reason. If she didn't say it out loud, it wasn't reality, so she refused to say it.
She heard an almost inaudible sigh from Snape. "Miss Granger. You experienced trauma. I can see the effects in every gesture, every look, every word that you utter in my presence."
"You are the last person who needs to tell me that," she snapped back. Feeling the sudden need for warmth, she moved to the head of the bed and wrapped herself in the blanket.
"I know. I know that very well." Snape nodded slowly, turning a little bit to keep looking at her. "Regardless of how much you think about your trauma, or how much you talk about it, try to rationalise it, the fear and anxiety that follows is hard to overcome."
His gaze was heavy on her, as if he was looking to the bottom of her soul. She felt tears welling up inside as she just stared back at him, hearing what he was saying and feeling that something deep inside her moved. He was right. As much as she tried to forget what happened, tried to find diversion with Lucius Malfoy, as soon as Snape returned to the manor, anxiety and fear took over again.
"What helps in these situations is positive experience to counteract the trauma. I know the last thing you want right now is share a bed with me. I can see the fear in your eyes and see your body tense up. But still." He fell silent for a moment, before shaking his head ever so slightly. "Push through it. It will get better."
For a long second, Hermione just stared at him. She understood what he explained, but she failed to understand why he was telling her all this. "Am I to gather from your words that you have no intention of … forcing yourself on me again?"
"That is correct."
He held the eye contact as if he wanted to convince her of his sincerity. She could detect no lie in his voice, but she was sure that even if he lied, she wouldn't be able to tell. He had lied all his life and in front of the experienced people of the Order. But she also understood his words. If he was truthful, maybe there really was a chance for her to take another step forward, right here.
Slowly, she sank into a lying position, the blanket still tightly wrapped around her body. She never took her eyes off him. "I have no option but to trust your words. If you intend to harm me again, I know I can do nothing to prevent it. I want to shake my fear, regardless of whether you are trustworthy or not. So, I will do as you say and spend the night in this bed, right next to you."
Something glittered across his face, some emotion Hermione could not quite place, but she instinctively felt that her words had an effect on the man, whatever that effect was. He did not give an answer to her declaration, but instead flicked his wand to turn off the lights and slip under his blanket as well.
Soon she could tell by his regular, deep breathing that he fell asleep, and so it was finally possible for her to relax. Until the end, she had been tormented by the uncertainty of whether he would roll over to her to repeat what he had done weeks ago.
Now that the immediate danger was gone, her thoughts returned to the Patronus he had shown her. She knew that each Patronus was unique, and only when people loved each other, one would take the form of the other. So it could only have been Snape's Patronus that had shown Harry the way, because the thought that her former teacher could love another person, or vice versa, that someone loved him, was more than absurd.
But why? They had been in a desperate situation at that time, they hadn't made any progress, Ron had left them after a quarrel - if this small miracle hadn't happened, their whole plan would have crumbled then and with it any chance to finally destroy Voldemort. That Snape, of all people, the Dark Lord's most loyal follower, now turned out to be the central figure in her temporary success, overwhelmed Hermione.
Her mind wandered back through the years. In their first year at school, they had suspected Snape of trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone; she herself had set fire to his cloak because she thought Snape had cursed Harry's broom. The opposite had been the case. Why should a wizard protect the one who had led to the downfall of his Lord and master? Was the presence of Dumbledore and Snape's situation, that he had to keep his trust, sufficient explanation? And in the third year of school, he had tried to protect them from the werewolf. Was that a reflection of his role as a teacher, surpassing even his hatred for Harry? At that time, she had learned to always question the official historiography, since the murderer and traitor Sirius Black had proven to be a loyal friend. Year after year, sometimes small, sometimes big things had happened that made Snape's hatred for Harry clear, but also always showed that he didn't want him dead. Why?
And now? There was that almost caring behaviour with which he had nursed her back to health after Narcissa Malfoy had locked her out. There was the fact that he was obviously treating Ginny well. She didn't know what to make of all this, but one thing had been clear since today at the latest: Severus Snape was a man full of contradictions who she needed to study more, even though she wanted to stay as far away from him as possible.
oOoOoOo
In a room at the other end of the wing, the master of the house lay awake, staring at the ceiling above his bed. That not only his son but also Severus himself had caught him more or less in the act was more than he had hoped. It made things a lot easier for him, at least now he didn't have to rely on the little Weasley telling her owner about the incident. The fact that Severus wanted to take Hermione to his room at night, on the other hand, bothered him greatly - he should have expected it. It always surprised him that his old friend could actually feel something like physical desire. The idea of what was probably going on in his guest room made his blood pressure shoot up angrily. If his position had been any different, he would have simply forbidden any man to touch Hermione. But as things stood - and especially at the moment when Bellatrix suspected him of blood treason - he simply couldn't afford to. The reaction the small, brown-haired woman had shown toward him when he had forced himself on her against her will had probably been considerably less violent than toward Snape, who had triggered her trauma in the first place.
Angrily, Lucius sat up. Images of Hermione lying there with her face filled with fear and completely frozen, screaming and flailing to escape Snape's bed, dominated his thoughts. He knew that these thoughts were the reason why his wife thought he was a blood traitor, but he didn't care. He had found in Hermione an anchor in his life that he was not willing to give up. Her honesty, her temperament, her feminine body - it was his, he owned it, and he wasn't willing to share or let it be ruined. If Severus, his wife, or even his son thought him a perverted old man, that was fine with him.
Sighing, he let himself sink back onto his pillow. He missed the time when he had not only shown his pride outwardly, but also felt it inwardly. His family before him and he himself truly accomplished enough to be proud of. It was almost laughable that the very man who took his outlook on life to the extreme was now responsible for his miserable condition.
Gruffly, Lucius called himself to order in his mind. He was not born to whine; he would not feel sorry for himself. He would endure what life offered him at the moment, and work to make sure better times came again. There was still enough of his pride left to move him to action. The day when he, Lucius Malfoy, stopped fighting for his life and his luxuries was still far away.
oOoOoOo
"Nothing happened?"
The disbelief in her friend's voice did not surprise Hermione at all. She had expected Ginny to jump on her with concern as soon as she arrived in the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
"No, really," Hermione replied with a smile.
"I was worried about you all night. There I was, well sheltered in Malfoy's bed - who, by the way, slept on a sofa like an actual decent wizard - worrying about you. Yet nothing was the matter at all. By Merlin, I'm relieved!"
"I'm glad Draco took you," Hermione returned with equal relief, "I was afraid myself that Lu ... that old Malfoy would drag you off to bed."
"Were you about to call him by his first name?" Ginny inquired suspiciously, who didn't fail to notice how Hermione stumbled over the name, blushing.
"Oh, Ginny. So much has happened here. I'm beginning to doubt my sanity. So many people I thought were thoroughly cold and evil have shown ... humanity in the last few weeks. Even Lucius Malfoy."
Agitated, Ginny sat aside the vegetables the was cleaning. "Have they brainwashed you? It may be that Draco was misguided and regrets it - but you can't tell me that grown men like Malfoy suddenly have a change of heart and become human!"
Sighing, Hermione put aside the vegetables as well. "I'm confused myself. I can only react to what I see and how I'm treated - and other than good, polite, and friendly, there really is not much else to say about Malfoy. Sure, he flips out often enough too, calling me names and stuff."
She longed to tell Ginny that she had slept with him willingly, that she had discovered that this man needed her and craved to be near her. But she didn't dare. Especially after the incident yesterday, she felt as if she betrayed Ginny. Especially since she herself wanted to make sure what Lucius had been thinking in wanting to touch Ginny before she sang any more praises of him. Gripped by guilt, she changed the subject, "And besides - why don't you admit that your own experience of Snape is quite different from what you thought?"
"Yes, sure! But that's just an act he puts on Merlin knows why. You don't think I could forget or forgive what he did to you!" Ginny insisted fiercely. Then she faltered in mid-motion. "Have YOU forgotten?"
"What?"
Horrified, Hermione stared at her younger friend - did she hear wrong?
"You heard me right. How do you think that looks to me, huh? There you are yesterday alone with him in the library and come back together with him, as if nothing happened at all. Sit next to Lucius as of it was the most natural thing in the world. Then you calmly accompany Snape to his room and show up this morning well-rested, as if the night's proximity didn't bother you. What do you expect me to make of that?"
"Are you asking me to justify the fact that neither Malfoy nor Snape have been treating me badly lately? That I'm slowly but surely processing what happened and instead of looking back, I want to look forward? That I'm at least conceding to Lucius Malfoy that he's human and not a monster?"
"Merlin, Hermione! Can you hear yourself talking? Did Malfoy successfully convince you that you should be grateful that he's gracious enough not to treat you like a slave?"
Agitated, Hermione gasped. She knew what Ginny was alluding to, though she doubted her friend knew the Muggle technical term Stockholm Syndrome. She felt misunderstood and unfairly treated by, of all people, the person closest to her.
"Ginny, I am not a psychological victim of my owner," she said in a firm voice, "I am perfectly capable of understanding my situation. Neither do I forgive Snape for anything, nor am I grateful to Malfoy - at most for bringing me to you when I was on the verge of freezing to death. But just as you led a quiet life with Snape, in which hatred was probably not the first emotion - at least, before that happened to me - so I too lead a now halfway tolerable life here. I refuse to see myself only as a victim. I'm still Hermione, and I still haven't given up hope that the world will one day be set right again - preferably through active action on my part. But if I want to make a difference, then I need to start shedding old prejudices and take, explore, and understand the world as it is now. And who knows, maybe there are more Dracos out there - but how am I supposed to find out if I'm just going to brush everyone off as evil?"
She saw tears well up in Ginny's eyes at the end of her short talk, and hugged her tightly. "You and I are the last ones who should be fighting. We need to stick together!"
"I'm sorry," Ginny whispered as she fought the tears that were ruthlessly making their way down her cheeks, "I was just so shocked by all the changes in you. I don't know what I was trying to insinuate about you either ..."
"You were afraid I might be turned around and turned into a willing slave," Hermione stated matter-of-factly, as she broke free from Ginny's embrace to find a cloth for her runny nose. After finding one and handing it to her, she continued, "I understand, really. It's not an unlikely scenario. But trust me, it won't happen here. I still have too much control over my five senses for that."
Before the two could continue their conversation, the house elves came rushing into the kitchen, snapping the washed fruits and vegetables ready for breakfast. As she did every morning, Hermione felt ridiculous doing work by hand that was instantaneous for the house elves with a spark of magic.
In the back of her head, Hermione felt a tinge of guilt that she did not tell Ginny the full truth. That it were Snape's words from the night before that made her realise that she indeed was still capable of moving past being a victim. That in some ironic twist of the universe, the man who induced the most despair in her before now showed her hope. She still didn't know why, and she still didn't trust him, but she had to acknowledge that fact.